Warts and Weddings
by Jenie
Summary: Sara needs a date to her brother's wedding. But asking Greg will set off a chain of events that she never saw coming... Chapters 10 & 11 up! really, I promise! It worked this time!
1. Sara's POV 1

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Warts and Weddings

Sara groaned as she placed the phone back on its hook. Her brother, Stewart (affectionately known as Wart) had just called, reminding her that he was getting married in two weeks and that she had promised to come back to San Francisco to see him tie the knot. That was no problem – she had already placed a request in for leave. No, the problem was that Wart had also hinted that she should bring her boyfriend up so "he could get a good look at him."

She did not want to take Hank up to San Francisco. She did not want to see her brother's face when he met Hank. In fact, if Wart and Hank never met, it would be just fine with her. Wart had always had his own ideas about the boys his baby sister should date. Hank was the opposite of it all – except that he was in the medical field. However, being an EMT was not the same thing as being a doctor, so Wart probably wouldn't approve even that much.

However, she was now tied down into bringing someone up there with her. Someone other than Hank, obviously, since he wouldn't cut it with Wart. Briefly, she considered asking Grissom to come, but that wouldn't play well. Sure, she was infatuated with the guy, but she needed someone who could play a role, who could convince Wart that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, even if he didn't come with an MD behind his name. Who could she ask?

Sara continued to fret about the subject for most of the night, evaluating every guy who happened to cross her path. Archie? No, Wart would never believe that she'd consider dating him. Nick? She laughed to herself. Nick was too nice a guy to ask to pretend to be her boyfriend. Warrick was out as well – he had just taken a vacation, so couldn't very well ask for any more right away.

It wasn't until she literally bumped into Greg that she realized he was the obvious choice. He eyes lit up with excitement. "Greg! You're just the guy I was looking for!"

"Um… I was?" He asked nervously.

"Yes! I was wondering…" she trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase the question, "My brother's getting married in two weeks." Greg simply raised hi eyebrows in response to that statement. She continued on, "And, naturally, I'm going to be there. But, I was wondering…" She bit her lip. _C'mon, Sara, this is supposed to be easy. Not like you're asking him out on a date or anything…_ "I need a date." She blurted out.

Greg looked at her for a second. "Are you asking me to go with you?" He asked.

She nodded, relieved that he understood what she had been trying to say.

"Really? You want me to go with you?"

"Look, Greg, if it's too much of a hassle, forget about it…" she turned to go, strangely disappointed.

"NO! I mean, of course I'll go with you. It just took me by surprise, that's all." She turned back, grinning at him. He had this big dopey grin on his face as well.

"Really?" She asked, wanting to make sure.

"I'd be delighted, Miss Sidle."

She hugged him briefly. "Thanks, Greg, I really appreciate it." She turned and headed down the hallway, mind snapping back into game mode. She was so focused on her case that she didn't realize that Greg was still standing there, smiling like an idiot, watching her walk away.


	2. Sara's POV 2

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

It wasn't until they had actually arrived in San Francisco that Sara realized she hadn't told Greg that she was still dating Hank. Unfortunately, there wasn't any time to tell him before meeting Stewart and his fiancée, Samantha.

"Sara!" Called Wart, his voice booming over the noise that generally fills the airport. Sara looked at Greg, who had turned pale, seeing the tall, buff guy standing in front of them.

"Sara… I thought you said his name was Stewart…" he whispered.

"It is."

"Stewarts do not look like they can take on the entire line of the Oakland Raiders, Sara." He said. "Stewarts do your tax forms and get beaten up by other guys when they hit on cute girls."

She laughed and leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You'll be fine, as long as you never say any of that in front of him." She then grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her brother.

It wasn't long until she was enveloped in a bear hug by the only person in her family she could tolerate. She had given up talking to her mom years ago, hating the prison where she was kept, and hating even worse that the woman behind the plexi-glass window was a stranger to her. It was her mother's fault that she and Wart had grown up in foster care, and that was not something she would forgive easily.

Fortunately, her brother had had better breaks than she did. He loved his foster family, even adopting their last name instead of Sidle. That had hurt, when he told her that he was changing his name, but fortunately, she had gotten over it. Now, she was glad that he had found someone to share the rest of his life with.

She turned to hug Samantha, a slim blonde who looked much too tiny to even consider marrying her six foot five inch brother. "Sam! I'm so glad that I'm going to be able to finally call you my sister!"

Samantha hugged her back. "I'm just glad you took some time off, hon. It's great to see you." Pulling back, she smiled impishly. "Care to introduce the dish you brought with you?"

Sara blushed. She had completely forgotten about Greg standing awkwardly next to her. "Right. Wart, Sam, I'd like you to meet Greg Sanders. Greg, this is my brother, Stewart, affectionately called Wart, and his fiancée, Samantha."

Greg shook hands with Stewart, trying not to look intimidated. "Pleasure to meet you both." He said, nodding at Samantha.

"Oh, don't be so formal!" cried Sam, throwing her arms around Greg and giving him a hug. "I'm hoping you're going to stick around a while." She winked at Sara over Greg's shoulder, causing Sara to blush once again.

"Sam… be nice. Sara's only just got here. Wait at least two hours before you start embarrassing her." Teased Wart.

Sam turned and smiled up at her fiancé. "I can't help it, darling."

Greg cleared his throat, obviously still in shock from Sam's hug. "Um… not to sound rude or anything, but is there someplace where we can freshen up before dinner?"

Sam laughed. "Of course. You'll want to relax and settle in before the rehearsal dinner tonight." She motioned to Wart to pick up Sara's bag, but Greg beat him to it.

"It's okay, I've got it. Lead on, fair maidens." He grinned at Sara and Sam.

Sam leaned in to Sara as they walked to the car, "You know, I think he's a keeper."

"Oh, be quiet, Sam." Sara said, turning red again.

Sam merely giggled in response.


	3. Greg's POV 1

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Greg couldn't take his eyes off her. He still couldn't believe that Sara – the same Sara who had shrugged off all of his flirting – had asked him to come to California with her. He had given himself a stern lecture earlier, while getting dressed for the rehearsal dinner. After all, he wasn't stupid. Sara hadn't said that anything that would make him assume that she would want more than this weekend. However, she _had_ asked him, which meant that she certainly couldn't be quite so opposed to dating him as she had been in the past.

He was torn out of his thoughts when Stewart sat down next to him. "She's a nice girl," said Stewart casually, "and I don't want to see her hurt."

Greg nodded in response. "She's more than just a nice girl. She's the wonderful woman I've ever met."

Stewart laughed. "I can't help but notice that you haven't taken your eyes off of her all evening."

Greg turned to him, slightly surprised that he had been being watched all night. "I thought grooms were only supposed to have eyes for their brides."

He got a shrug in response. "I've been a brother much longer than I've been a groom. My eyes will be on Sam tomorrow. Tonight, I'm a brother."

"Ask anything you'd like, then, Stewart. Wouldn't want you to have to keep an eye on me tomorrow and make the bride mad." Greg winked at Stewart, causing him to grin a bit.

"Please, call me Wart, everyone else does."

"Okay, Wart. What do you want to know?"

"I thought Sara was dating a guy named Hank."

Greg shrugged. "So did I."

"So what are you doing here?"

Greg stared at the wineglass in front of him. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm assuming that they broke up, and Sara didn't want to come alone, so she asked me to come."

There was silence for a minute. Then, Wart asked, "Do you love her?"

Greg's eyes sought out Sara. He watched her for a minute, laughing and joking with Sam and some of the other girls. She looked happy. She glanced up at him, her smile widening as she looked at him. He felt himself smile in return. "Yeah, I love her."

Wart patted him on the shoulders. "This is the happiest I've seen Sara in a long time. Don't mess that up, Greg. Hopefully, we'll be sitting here at your rehearsal dinner someday."

Greg's smile deepened. His rehearsal dinner. His and Sara's. Wouldn't that be something?


	4. Greg's POV 2

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Greg bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. _C'mon, Greg, you can do this,_ he coached himself. _It's just a dance, why would she say no?_ Nodding decisively, he headed towards Sara, who was sitting at one of the tables with a bridesmaid. He had almost gotten there when another guy – one of the groomsmen, he thought – appeared out of nowhere and swept Sara onto the dance floor. He sank down into a chair, disappointed that he hadn't gathered courage a little sooner.

He hadn't been sitting long when the bride herself came sweeping over and grabbed his hand. "Come dance with me, Greg," she demanded, her eyes dancing.

Greg reluctantly stood up and moved towards the floor, not really paying attention as Sam chatted a mile a minute. He woke from his trance when he felt her poke his ribs. "Smile, Greg, it's only a dance." She teased.

He sighed. "Sorry, Sam. Mind's a million miles away."

"Or just across the dance floor." She replied.

He smiled wryly. "Yeah, but seriously, it's not like I have much of a chance with her."

She stared at him, incredulous. "Are you kidding me?"

"Sam, look at her. She's gorgeous."

"Thanks, Greg; I thought I looked pretty good today too." Sam stated dryly.

He glanced down at her, worried that she had taken offense. "It's not that you don't look amazing – cause you do. I mean, it's your wedding day, so you obviously outshine everyone in the room..."

He stopped as she laughed. "I was teasing, Greg. Calm down."

A faint blush stole across his face. "Yeah, I knew that."

"As for Sara, why don't you ask her to dance? I don't think it's as dire as you think. After all, you're here with her, aren't you?"

He nodded, feeling silly. "She just... deserves so much more than I can give her."

Sam squeezed his hands lightly as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Let her decide what she deserves, Greg."

He smiled back at her. "I'll try."

The song was ending, so he bowed to the bride, and moved away to find his date for the evening. He spotted her by the drinks, her deep purple dress clinging to her becomingly. He slid next to her, shoulders touching slightly, and waited.

"It was a lovely ceremony." She said quietly.

"A bit too elaborate for my tastes." He replied. "I want something simpler."

She turned to look at him. "Me too."

He reached down and squeezed her hand, not sure why he still had butterflies in his stomach. "Care to dance?"

She grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

He led her out to the floor, knowing he must be grinning like an idiot, but not wanting to stop. They danced in silence for a moment, before he said, "What type of wedding would you like?"

"I haven't really considered it, to be honest. Just close friends and family, maybe in a garden or by a lake."

"Funny, I wouldn't have guessed you were a nature girl."

She glanced into his eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Greg."

There were a million things that Greg wanted to say – that he wished he knew her better, that he wanted to get to know her that well… instead, he just pulled her closer to him, focusing on being content that she was even in his arms.

"Hey, Greg... what type of wedding would you like?"

He pulled away a bit, looking down at her. Every picture in his mind had her coming down the aisle, smiling at him. But he couldn't tell her that, she'd freak out. "I really hadn't thought about it. I guess someplace that's special for the two of us, if I got a say in the matter." He shook his head, trying to get rid of images of Sara in white, beaming at him, out of his head. It hadn't helped that Wart had suggested that very scenario just the night before. Suddenly, he realized that he was being unusually silent, at least as far as Sara knew. So he opened his mouth and said the first thing he could think of. "I'm glad you weren't one of the bridesmaids."

Sara laughed a bit. "Yeah, they look atrocious in those lime green and baby pink dresses, don't they? I don't know what Sam was thinking... usually she has such good taste."

Greg shrugged. He hadn't actually been thinking about the actual bridesmaid dress. Instead, he had been happy that Sara could sit next to him throughout the service; that he was the one whose hand she had grabbed when she was tearfully happy; and that he had gotten to slide his arm around her as she had briefly cried into his shoulder before calling herself a fool for crying at such a happy time.

Oh, he was falling for her, hook, line and sinker. No question about that.


	5. Sara's POV 3

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me. _Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back _is quoted in this chapter as well. It belongs to George Lucas, not me. I'm still a broke college student sigh.**

Sara smiled as she glanced at Greg, who was sleeping in the seat next to her. They were on their way back to Las Vegas, retuning to the real world. She knew she was going to have to tell Greg that she was still going out with Hank, but she wasn't exactly sure how to do that.

She had almost told him last night. They had stayed in Sam's apartment while they were in San Francisco. Sam had insisted that it was stupid to rent hotel rooms when she could put them up just as easily. So, Sara had shared Sam's room while Greg got the spare room. It had been quiet in the apartment when they got back. For the first time, Sara had realized that she was going to spend the night alone with Greg.

She relaxed only a little when Greg suggested throwing in a movie to help them wind down after the party. It wasn't until the opening credits of "Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back" were rolling that she began to really relax. Greg hadn't even attempted to sit right next to her on the loveseat, opting instead for sprawling on the other sofa. He hadn't commented on her pajamas, which showed a bit more skin than she was entirely comfortable showing Greg, nor had he treated her any different than he had the rest of the weekend. So, she relaxed into the loveseat, making herself comfortable and getting ready to engross herself in the movie.

She had been startled out of her thoughts by Greg reading the yellow words that flashed across the screen. "Star Wars... Episode Five: The Empire Strikes Back... After the destruction of its most feared battle station, the Empire has declared martial law throughout the galaxy. A thousand worlds have felt the oppressive hand of the Emperor as He attempts to crush the growing rebellion. As the Imperial grip of tyranny tightens, Princess Leia and the small band of freedom fighters search for a more secure base of operations..."

It was only a few minutes later, when she thanked him for reading the words that she always scrambled to finish before they were too tiny to read, that she learned that he had recited them from memory. That was just one more thing that she hadn't known about Greg before that weekend.

Sara smiled to herself. She really had meant to watch the movie. It wasn't entirely her fault that by the time the Millennium Falcon is dodging asteroids, she and Greg were debating whether or not cloning human body parts should be legal. After all, Greg had started the conversation. From there, they had discussed a variety of things, "The Empire Strikes Back" almost entirely forgotten. Sometime during the conversation, she had moved to the sofa, and was sitting facing Greg. Gradually, their conversation had turned personal, and Sara had found herself revealing things that she never would have imagined sharing with anyone in Vegas, much less Greg, with ease. It had been Sara who brought up the awkward question, however...

FLASHBACK

_Sara smiled as Greg continued to chuckle at her explanation of why she had named her male dog Princess when she was eight. Her eyes turned thoughtful as she observed the cute lab rat who was seated across from her. "Greg, why did you agree to come with me this weekend?"_

_She could tell he was startled by the question. He remained silent for several minutes, obviously trying to figure out what to tell her. She waited patiently, knowing that he'd give her an answer eventually. Finally he shrugged and said, "Because you asked."_

_She was stunned. Her mind tried to wrap around that answer. 'Because you asked...' What the hell was that supposed to mean?_

_Silence reigned for several minutes as Sara merely stared at a slightly blushing Greg. _

_Finally, he glanced at the TV, and said, "Hey, the movie's ended. But we missed the best part." He picked up the remote and fiddled with it for a few minutes, giving Sara enough time to recover from his statement._

_She turned to the TV as well, interested to know what part of the movie Greg thought was the best. Probably an action scene, she thought to herself. So it was a surprise when the scene began to play. Han Solo was led to the carbon freezing chamber, and a few minutes later, out comes a carbonite-encased Han._

_Sara looked at him quizzically. "How can that be the best part of the movie?"_

_Greg smiled. "Because Han gets the best last line. Leia professes her love for him, and he simply smiles and says, 'I know'. He's pretty much assured of death, he's surrounded by people who hate him, and he still has the perfect line at the perfect time. How can you top that?"_

_Sara smiled back at Greg. "I guess you can't." His eyes caught hers and held them. All of a sudden, it felt as if he could see all the way into her soul. He reached up with one hand and caressed her cheek. Slowly, he moved closer to her, until he captured her lips with his own. Sara felt her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. It was a slow, innocent kiss – the only contact between them was his hand on her cheek and their lips. It was ... perfect._

_Unfortunately, all things have to come to an end. Suddenly, Greg wasn't kissing her anymore, but smiling down at her. She blinked twice, before cautiously asking, "Um... what was that for?"_

_Greg's smile turned a bit smug. "Every good date should have a good night kiss at the end of it." He stood and headed towards 'his' room. "Good night, Sara."_

END FLASHBACK

Sara sighed. That kiss had been rather wonderful. Unfortunately, now she felt even guiltier about not telling Greg that she was still with Hank. Somehow, she had to find a way to tell him today.


	6. Greg's POV 3

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Greg smiled to himself as he and Sara waited for their bags to arrive at baggage claim. He was watching her, and could tell that she was tired, even though the only thing they did that day was travel. He had gotten some sleep on the plane, which had helped after their late night last night. Unfortunately, Sara apparently hadn't had any, and so he had had to put up with her complaining about how he could sleep anywhere.

It was no wonder Sara was tired. He had been the first to leave the living room last night, and he hadn't fallen into his bed until six in the morning. Luckily, their flight wasn't until three in the afternoon, so he got some sleep in before having to run to the airport. However, the snooze on the airplane made him feel more alert, which he was grateful for. After all, he had been debonair and charming last night; it wouldn't look good if he was clumsy and cranky today.

He had been rather pleased with his parting line to Sara last night. He was even more pleased about the kiss they had shared – yes, shared! He had felt some lip action from Miss Sidle, so it wasn't merely a one-sided kiss. He had had several first kisses – not a lot, but enough to know that this one was special.

He spotted Sara's bag and grabbed it off the mechanical merry-go-round. He handed it to her, hearing her mutter, "Oh thank God," under her breath. This was the moment Greg had been wondering about since they got on the plane – would Sara leave, or would she wait for him? Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, obviously trying to decide which she was going to do, before picking up her suitcase. His heart sunk. She wasn't going to wait for him.

However, instead of leaving right away, she leaned in closer to him and said, "I'm gonna go sit down in one of those chairs until your suitcase comes." Suddenly, he was smiling. He watched as she walked over to some benches. She was staying – she wanted to spend more time with him. He was so excited by that thought that he almost missed his own bag passing by him. Quickly, he grabbed it and headed towards her.

"Ready?" he asked, trying to play it cool. She stood, and they moved towards the exit.

As they passed through the doors to the main section of the Vegas airport, Greg summoned the courage to ask, "So, you got plans for tonight? Cause, if you don't, I was thinking we could grab some dinner."

Sara was quiet for a second, looking at him oddly. Just as she was opening her mouth, another voice cut in. "Welcome home, Sara." Both Sara and Greg turned to see who was talking. It was Hank, standing there with a bunch of roses. He smiled. "Miss me?"

"Hank!" Sara said sounding slightly surprised to see him. Greg's guess was confirmed a second later. "What are you doing here?"

Hank leaned down and gave Sara a hug and a light peck on the lips, which just made Greg's stomach turn inside out. "I'm just good like that. How was the conference?"

Greg froze. _Conference? What conference?_

Sara replied, "Oh, it was great. Greg learned a lot of things, didn't you, Greg?"

Greg stared at her, noticing the plea in her eyes. "Uh, yeah, tons." He mumbled.

"So, Greggo, tell me, how many guys were eyeing up my girl?" Teased Hank.

The words were a slap in the face to Greg. He smiled woodenly. "Oh, I wasn't really paying any attention to Sara." He lied. "I couldn't tell you."

"Well, that's too bad. Well, at least I don't have to worry about you. After all, I know Sara would never even think about doing anything with you. But what good does that do me if I can't even get an honest report from you of how many guys I have to go beat up?" Hank grinned as he smiled down at Sara.

"Hank!" scolded Sara.

Greg just stood there, Hank's words repeating in his head. _I know Sara would never even think about doing anything with you..._ He closed his eyes, willing the words to stop ringing in his ears.

"Hey, Greg, you don't look too hot. Maybe you should, you know, go home." Said Hank.

Greg opened his eyes and looked at Sara. One look was all he needed to confirm his worst fears. He nodded. "Yeah, I'm really tired. I'll just catch a cab. See you guys later." He moved rapidly out of the airport, ignoring Sara's calls as he placed much needed space between the two of them.

The ride home was a blur. He honestly didn't remember exactly how he got into his apartment, but all of a sudden, he was pacing back and forth in his living room, wearing a hole in the carpet. Everything fell into place. The fog had lifted, and now everything was perfectly clear. Sara hadn't asked him to go because she wanted to get to know him better. She didn't ask him because her boyfriend had broken up with her and she didn't know who else to ask. She hadn't even asked him because Hank didn't like weddings. No, she had lied to her boyfriend, and asked him because she didn't want her family to meet Hank, for whatever reason. He had merely been a stand-in, a placeholder. He could have been anyone as far as Sara was concerned. He was merely a faceless body with no feelings or emotions that she might have to deal with, or give an explanation to.

He sank into the sofa, covering his face with his hands. The worst part was that he fell for it. He flew up there, met her family, fell in love with her, and made a complete fool of himself.

He winced, thinking about the kiss they had shared. Just hours earlier, that kiss has signaled that there might be hope of an actual relationship with Sara. It had been a source of elation and awe. Now, it simply was the pinnacle of his embarrassment.

Suddenly, that embarrassment turned to anger. Why hadn't she said something? Couldn't she have simply said, "Greg, I'm still with Hank"? How hard is that? Five words. Five words that could have been said anytime during the weekend. Hell, even after the kiss. It would have hurt, yes, but it would have been a whole hell of a lot better than finding out when Hank is standing right in front of him.

No, she hadn't bothered, hadn't cared enough to let him know not to get emotionally involved. He laughed bitterly, thinking of how sappy he had been, thinking how maybe one day it might be their wedding that he was at. Thank God he hadn't mentioned that in their heart-to-heart last night.

And just as rapidly as it came, the anger faded into despair. God, what a fool he had been. How could he ever have thought someone as perfect as Sara would EVER consider anything with him?

Then he remembered that he'd have to work with Sara every day. Pretending like nothing had happened. And that just made it worse. Greg picked up a glass off the coffee table and threw it across the room. He had the satisfaction of hearing it break into a thousand pieces as he stormed from the room.

As he reached his bedroom, the rage again subsided. His bed called to him. The mile-a-minute emotional roller coaster he had been on for the past hour had drained him, so he simply kicked off his shoes and rolled under the covers, curling into a ball. He closed his eyes, willing the tears that had suddenly appeared in them not to fall. He failed, bitter sobs wretched from his chest, as he cried himself to sleep.

**A/N: Um, it has come to my attention that the words used in the last chapter as the opening scroll for "The Empire Strikes Back" are from a draft of the screenplay, not the actual movie. Apologies for any confusion caused.**


	7. Sara's POV 4

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Sara stood nervously in front of the DNA lab, watching Greg work through the glass windows. She had been a jerk the day before, not saying a word to Greg after Hank got there. She had just been so... shocked that Hank would be at the airport, waiting to pick her up. Then, Hank had gone and opened his mouth, making a bad situation even worse. She knew, watching Greg walk away, that she might have lost Greg's friendship forever. That caused a pang deep inside her heart, which had been surprising.

Suddenly, she was brought out of her thoughts by Warrick brushing past her, walking straight into the DNA lab. "Hey, Greggo, I got your page. Mind telling me what Wilkins has to do with this case?"

Greg spun around in his chair, smirking a little at Warrick. Sara was surprised to feel a small flutter in her stomach when she saw Greg smirk. Not wanting to dissect her feelings now, she focused on Greg and Warrick's conversation.

"Don't feel bad, Warrick. I mean, just because you don't know that Maurice Wilkins was a British biophysicist who took x-rays of DNA, and therefore helped Watson and Crick to build the double-stranded DNA model that we all know and love doesn't mean that you aren't a smart guy."

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Greg. Now that I've had my history lesson for today, what do you got for me?"

Greg nodded. "I'm just saying that you should be more thankful that there were people like Wilkins around fifty years ago, or I wouldn't be able to give you a positive match on the blood found at your crime scene with your suspect, Dennis Reube."

Warrick grinned. "Thanks, Greg." He strode out of the DNA lab quickly, heading off to find Brass, no doubt.

Sara still stood outside the DNA lab, frozen. _C'mon, Sara, you can do this. Walk into the DNA lab and give Greg your evidence. It's not that hard._ She couched herself. Yet, her feet wouldn't move.

While she was trying to convince her feet to move, Nick wandered into the DNA lab through the other door. "Hey G. Got any good news for me?"

Greg shook his head. "Your evidence is still being processed, Nicky. I can't make the machine go any faster than it's going right now."

"Well, how long do I have to wait?"

Greg fiddled with a knob on the microscope in front of him. "Twenty minutes or so."

Nick nodded. "Okay, I'll come back then." He glanced up and saw Sara standing outside. "Hey, G, you know Sara seems to be frozen outside your door?"

Greg nodded slightly. "She's been there a while."

"Aren't you going to invite her in?"

"She'll come in when she's ready to."

"Okay, man. Whatever. I'll be back." With that, Nick left the DNA lab, heading over to bug Hodges for a while.

Greg looked up from the microscope. "Would it help if I left the lab, so you could simply drop your evidence off and not see me?" He said, not looking at Sara, but sounding slightly bitter. Sara just stared at him, unable to say a word. Greg sighed, and turned to face her. "You know, Sara, if you don't want people suspecting things that aren't true, you might want to, I don't know, maybe act normal around me." He stood, moving towards the other door.

That helped Sara gain control over her body again. "Greg! Wait!" She moved into the lab, dropping her evidence in the normal spot, but continuing towards him.

Fortunately, he had stopped before leaving the room. He turned to look at her, not saying a word.

Unfortunately, now that she had his undivided attention, she didn't know what to say. "I'm... I'm sorry, Greg. I should have told you."

"Damn straight you should have told me." Greg bit out.

Okay, obviously a simple apology wasn't going to cut it. She looked at the ground, away from his angry face. "I was going to, honest. I was going to tell you at dinner, but then Hank showed up." She glanced up at Greg, trying to see how he was reacting to the words coming out of her mouth.

His face was a wooden mask.

So, she stumbled on. "I didn't mean for it to turn out like this, Greg. I enjoyed the weekend with you."

"No, Sara, what you enjoyed was a lie. And you know what the worst part is? That you didn't trust any of us. You were so concerned about whatever the issue was with Hank that you forgot everyone else has feelings. Wart is a great guy, merely trying to watch out for his younger sister. Sam adores you and wants you to be as happy as she is. Those people are your family, Sara, and didn't deserve your lies."

Greg's words cut into Sara, slashing at her heart and cutting her to the soul. She felt tears build in her eyes. "Greg..."

At that moment, Mia stuck her head into the DNA lab. "Hey, Greg thought I'd give you a break for a few minutes." She looked between Sara and Greg, a frown creasing her face. "Unless, of course, this is a bad time."

Sara turned and glared at Mia. _Of course this is a bad time,_ she thought.

She had just opened her mouth to tell Mia that when she heard Greg saying, "No, that would be great, Mia. Nick's results will be ready in about ten minutes, so give him a page when they're done, will ya? I'm gonna go get some fresh air." With that, he was gone from the DNA lab, leaving a stunned Sara with Mia.

Sara turned without saying a word to Mia, determined to follow Greg and continue their conversation. Unfortunately, her pager went off, reminding her that she still has a crime scene to finish processing, and a boss to explain why exactly she had been over an hour at the lab when all she was doing was dropping off evidence to Greg to process. Life, apparently, didn't stop simply because she had screwed up a friendship. Sighing, she headed back to her car, missing Greg hiding in the shadows of the building, bloody knuckles clenched into fists by his side.


	8. Greg's POV 4

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

Greg watched Sara walk towards her car, making sure she was out of the parking lot before moving back towards the interior of the building. Once inside, he moved quickly towards a bathroom, wanting to clean his hands before someone questioned why there was blood on them.

He had always scoffed at the jocks that couldn't control their tempers and hit things while they were mad. Obviously, they just didn't have enough self-control to keep from damaging themselves or property. However, tonight, he had been so furious with Sara, so furious with _himself_ that he had instinctively reached out and slammed his fists into the wall. He, scrawny Sanders, couldn't control his temper. Boy would the boys from Stanford throw a party when they found out.

He slid his hands underneath the water, hissing slightly at the stinging sensation. Yeah, beating up walls was definitely stupid. However, before he could berate himself some more, he heard the bathroom door open. Glancing up into the mirror, he caught sight of Nick in the doorway. _This is not good..._ he thought to himself.

Nick moved closer, leaning against the walk next to Greg. "So, you leave Mia to give me my results now?"

Greg looked down into the sink. "I didn't think you'd mind. I needed some air."

Nick nodded slowly. "Looks to me like you got more than some fresh air."

"It's nothing."

"You know, I grew up in a rough and tumble house, Greg. Scrapped knuckles generally don't equal nothing."

"Well, it is nothing." Greg defended, not wanting to talk about it.

Nick, however, didn't seem to know when to stop. "Can I at least look and make sure that your hand isn't broken?"

Greg closed his eyes for a moment. Could it be broken? Nah, he'd had broken bones before – okay, only a broken leg from showing off to try and impress the girl he liked in ninth grade – and this didn't feel broken. It just hurt.

So, he negotiated a deal. "If I let you look at it, will you leave me alone?"

Nick was silent for a minute. "If that's what you really want, yeah."

Greg nodded once before pulling his hands from under the running water. Nick took one, running his hands over the skin. What exactly he was looking for, Greg wasn't sure, but he seemed satisfied because he moved onto the other hand, repeating the motions he had made on the first.

"Well, G, looks like you lucked out. Nothing but some scrapped skin."

Greg smiled warily. "Told ya."

"Okay, I gotta go. Thanks for the evidence, Greg."

"Go catch some bad guys, Nicky." Nick nodded and headed towards the bathroom door. Just as he opened the door, Greg called out, "Nicky?" Nick turned. Greg wasn't sure what he had wanted to say. "Thanks." He finally managed. Nick nodded once before turning and disappearing down the hallway.


	9. Sara's POV 5

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

**A/N: This chapter goes out to Aidrianna, for telling me that the last chapter was a repeat. Since she so kindly told me that, I've fixed the last chapter and am adding this one at the same time.**

**Enjoy! **

Sara sighed as she continued to process the scene in front of her. It had been almost a week since Greg blew up at her in the DNA lab. Well, blow up really wasn't the truth. He really hadn't raised his voice any, just simply told her the one thing a CSI can never back away from – the truth. The intensity in his voice was what hurt Sara. Greg yelling would have been one thing. She was used to people yelling. But in all her time at the lab, she had never heard Greg speak with such... quiet rage. And that scared her.

Since the 'incident', she had stayed as far away from Greg as she could, often sending the other CSIs to collect the info on DNA analysis, or runners to drop off what she needed done. Maybe that was cowardly, but it was how she could deal with the situation. But she had to get her act together soon, because if she didn't, even Grissom would catch on that there was something going on between her and Greg. And if Grissom caught on, he wouldn't let it go until everything worked itself out.

Sara began dusting the door, hoping to catch a break with fingerprints. The vic had been a girl in her mid-thirties, and apparently had lived alone. However, as her bed sheets showed, she hadn't often slept alone. There might be several donors on that sheet, and Sara was hoping to knock it down to one or two main suspects.

Speaking of sleeping alone, Sara had been doing just that all week. Apparently, although he had time to come ruin a friendship at the airport, Hank had no time to do anything else. All she had received from him this week was a phone call last night, apologizing for not being around, but that work had been hectic.

So, with all that extra time, Sara had been thinking about her and Hank's relationship. Before going to Wart's wedding, she had believed that Hank just might be the one that she'd settle down with. Everything seemed to be smooth between them; they were comfortable and compatible... so why did she now have doubts? Hank had had long weeks before, heck, so had she. Why did it feel like he was avoiding her this week? She really wanted to blame her doubts on Greg – throw all the fault on someone else and then maybe she'd feel better. But she couldn't blame Greg, because he hadn't set out to prove that he was better husband material than Hank. She shook her head, amazed at where her thoughts had led her. Husband material? Since when did she even come close to considering whether Greg was husband material? She frowned slightly. Guys were going to be the death of her. Right now she needed to focus on her work.

"Sara?" A familiar voice said.

She glanced up at Grissom, who was working the case with her. He had taken the bed sheets back to the lab to be processed. Had he already given parts of the bed sheet to Greg for DNA analysis, or was he going to assign that to her? She supposed the latter, as she really hadn't been processing the scene for very long by herself.

"Sara?" Grissom said again.

"What? Oh, sorry, Grissom. I guess my mind was wandering." She said sheepishly.

"I asked if you'd found any fingerprints that are useable."

"No, not yet. Lots of partials, though. I'm hoping that the doorknob will have a pretty decent print." As she said this, she smiled. Ask and you shall be given. There, right in front of her, was a perfect print. She reached for the tape, so she could do a tape lift. "Got one."

Grissom nodded. "Good. Take that and the partials back to the lab. And while you're there, hit up Greg and see if he's got anything for us yet."

Sara was a bit surprised. "You got the sheets to Greg already?" How long had she been out of it, lost in her own thoughts at the crime scene?

Grissom looked at her funny. "Yes, Sara, that's where I've been all this time."

She blushed. "Oh. But I don't have to stop by- I mean,usually he pages us when our results are in."

Grissom took off his glasses and looked at Sara, making her want to squirm under his stare. She felt like she had been caught sneaking in after curfew by one of her foster parents. "I try to stay out of my CSIs' personal lives, but I have to ask... did you and Greg have a falling out?"

"What? No! Geez, I'll go and see if he's got anything, okay?" With that, she grabbed her kit and moved towards the door. She stopped as she heard Grissom call after her.

"Sara... whatever happened between you and Greg... fix it."

Internally, she screamed. Leave it to Grissom to assume that whatever was wrong could obviously be fixed. Or, at least, be fixed quickly and easily. She had no clue how to fix the situation. Didn't anyone get that? Outwardly, she simply nodded before leaving the room and heading back to the Crime Lab. Apparently, she had a lab rat to see.


	10. Greg's POV 5

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

**A/N: Chapters 10&11 are dedicated to ****rawkchick91 and SpeedRacer15 for making me feel guilty that I hadn't posted in a while. grin I promise to update more often!**

It had been a week. A week since he had walked off the plane and had his heart stomped on. No, not stomped... more like bulldozed. Greg moved around the lab mechanically, knowing he was letting this affect him more than he should. He knew people were noticing; knew he wasn't keeping up the façade very well, but he honestly didn't give a damn. He knew Sara was avoiding him. Well, that was just swell. Professional... yeah, right.

He honestly didn't know what hurt worse at the moment – Sara's lying to him, or Sara avoiding him. He had almost decided that Sara lying to him was worse when she walked into the room. Seeing her standing in front of him, her eyes averted from his... his heart broke once again, and he knew that her avoidance of him was infinitely worse than the fact that she had lied.

There was silence for a minute, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Sara said, "Grissom wanted me to check and see if our results were done yet."

The tiny piece of Greg's heart that had soared, hoping Sara was coming of her own free will, plummeted earthward again. Of course she hadn't suddenly decided to see how Greg was doing. She was here because Grissom told her to come by. He turned away from her, thinking that would make things easier. "Sorry, another twenty minutes at least. Probably closer to a half hour."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed.

"Don't worry; I'll page Grissom when they're in." He picked up a beaker, preparing to start another case, pushing Sara out of his mind. Obviously, she'd leave now, comforted by the fact she wouldn't have to see Greg again for the rest of the night.

He was shocked, then, to hear her say, "Can we talk?"

He froze, beaker still in hand. Had she really just said that? He slowly placed the beaker back on the table before turning towards her, wanting to see the expression on her face. Apparently, that was a cue for her to continue.

"I know this is work, and you have things to do... if you're busy, I'll just come back later..."

He could see her retreating into herself; see her beginning to prepare to run away again.

"This was a mistake..." she muttered to herself, taking a step backward.

Could he live with her avoiding him for weeks at a time? Could he live, knowing that he could have at least been her friend?

"Wait!" His voice sounded sharp to himself, and he knew it sounded harsh to Sara, as she flinched.

But she stayed still. She didn't leave. His eyes sought hers out. There was pain and sorrow in them.

He slowly smiled at her. "How about we get some coffee?"

Just as slowly, she smiled back at him. "I'd like that."


	11. Sara's POV 6

**Disclaimer: Any characters even resembling any on the TV show CSI obviously belong to them, not me.**

**A/N: Chapter 11 is not only dedicated to rawkchick91 and SpeedRacer15, but to remoob1513 as well... Thanks again for letting me know that hadn't posted my chapters:)**

**Onto the fic...  
**

Sara sat, fidgeting as she peered over a menu at Greg, before darting away to look at their surroundings. Somehow, when Greg had convinced her to go to his favorite coffee bar, she hadn't expected it to look so… European. She had expected something ultra-modern, or a Starbucks, or something… much more hip. The place they had come to, Caffe Kimbo, was definitely not some place where she would expect someone like Greg to be a patron. Yet, here he was, ordering his 'usual' from the waitress, who had greeted him by name, and acting … very un-Greg-like.

She didn't know why that bothered her, really. Okay, that was a lie. She was bothered because if he had kept this hidden from her, what else could he have hidden? Or rather, how much had she chosen not to see, comfortable in her stereotype of "Greg-with-wild-hair-and-insane-music-taste?"

That thought was not very comforting.

She looked again at Greg, trying to figure out what exactly she was going to say… she really was winging it here, which frightened her more than she was willing to admit.

Silence reigned for a few minutes after the waitress left with their orders. Greg was apparently content to simply wait for her to speak. Right, well, she _had_ asked him to talk, not the other way around… So she should say something, right?

She looked down at her hands, surprised to see that she was fidgeting. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it, then closed it again." _Why is this so hard?_ She wondered.

"Are you showing me your goldfish impression?" Greg asked.

She glanced up at him. He had a glint of humor in his eyes, and his mouth was giving her a lopsided smile. Her heart flipped, for some odd reason. "I… I just don't know what to say to make it better, Greg."

He nodded in response.

"I mean," she continued, "I screwed up royally. I know I did. I know I hurt you, and I hurt Wart and Sam by lying to them, and even worse, I hurt myself." She looked down at her fingers again, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes. "I wish I could tell you why I was so stupid, but I don't really have an answer. I was scared and selfish… and I may have lost someone I really do care about because of it."

There was silence for a moment, Sarah staring at her hands, waiting for a response from Greg.

She heard him sigh. "What do you want from me, Sarah?"

A feeling of helplessness rolled over her. _What did she want from him?_ "I… I want to hear you laugh again. I want to be able to be in a room with you without having my heart ache. I want to be able to at least attempt to earn your friendship back…" _and if something more happens, well, I'd be wiser this time, and not break your heart again,_ she added to herself.

"What about Hank?"

She blinked. "What about him?"

"Are you sorry you lied to him?"

She considered this for a second, before looking up at him. "Honestly, I don't know. Part of me is, because I should have been able to say, 'Hank, this is not something I want you to attend with me,' and have it be okay with him. On the other hand, I enjoyed the weekend with you, which never would have happened if I had told him the truth."

Greg nodded slowly. "Are you still dating him?"

She shrugged. "Kinda. He's been busy, I've been busy… we're growing apart, but neither of us has really called it off yet." It surprised her that she wasn't more hurt by this fact. She had been so mad earlier that evening, but sitting across from Greg, she couldn't feel upset about it. There was something about Greg that made her forget her anger with Hank, her doubt in herself, and simply focus on being with Greg… and that should worry her more than it did.

At that moment, the waitress reappeared with their coffees. This was a welcome interruption, because it gave both Greg and her some time to think without the silence being awkward.

She was stirring some sugar into her coffee when Greg said, "Sarah? I'd really like to try and be friends with you again."

She stilled, his words slamming into her and giving her hope. She looked up, catching his eyes, and what she saw there made her heart ache even more. Pain was obviously still there, and a bit of distrust still lingered, but she also saw a hope and a determination that made her wish that she had seen his affection for her sooner. Maybe this would have all turned out differently if she had handled this situation different.

Her hand reached out slowly to grab his. She squeezed it gently, softly smiling at him. He returned her smile; then turned his attention back to the rapidly cooling coffee in front of him. They drank the rest of their coffee in comfortable silence.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a step in the right direction.


End file.
